


watch out for flying glass

by kyouyaed



Series: lay that pistol down, babe [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fallout 4 AU, Gen, M/M, World-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyouyaed/pseuds/kyouyaed
Summary: **“Goodnight Robicheaux,” replied the man named Sam Chisolm. “If it's not too presumptuous of me, I believe I have a far better offer than our dead friend here did.”or, the fallout au no one asked for





	

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is unedited and i will edit when i can!
> 
> the setting is in the Commonwealth established in Fallout 4, as it'll be easier to name locations. the characters will be different, and the only things that will remain the same are the loose backstory/lore of fallout (specifically circa Bethesda coming into the picture), the Commonwealth and it's locations, and the weapons. (other locations, specifically the Mojave or the Capital Wasteland, may come into play in the future.)

“Hey, Paladin!”

Goodnight looked up, a frown twisting his face in disgust at the term being shouted at him. He hated the term, he hated it being tied to him, and he hated that it had gotten around Goodneighbor. Most importantly, he hated that he still responded to it like the Elder was barking orders at him when he heard it. Beside Goodnight, Billy tensed and narrowed his eyes but didn't look up.

“It's just Goodnight,” corrected the man, smiling tensely at the ghoul who had called out to him. The ghoul scoffed and rolled their eyes at him.

“Yeah, whatever,” they said. Billy's head jerked up and he set his cold glare on the ghoul. Goodnight put an easy hand on Billy's shoulder and the ghoul continued. “Some newcomer in the entrance square was lookin' for you, _Paladin_ ,” they emphasized the title with a sneer, “an' the good mayor sent me for ya.”

Billy muttered something under his breath that Goodnight couldn't make out but he could guess it wasn't polite and he cracked a smile. The ghoul looked over them both with disdain and added in a cold tone,

“He looked like _your_ kind.”

For a moment, Goodnight only stared at the ghoul in confusion. _His_ kind? Did the ghoul mean the newcomer was human? Billy was tense, and Goodnight sighed. He squeezed his fingers around Billy's shoulder before he answered the ghoul.

“Pray tell,” he began, “what is my kind? Smoothskin? Sniper?” Goodnight frowned and stared at the ghoul blankly in the hopes that their answer would make some kind of sense. Not that Goodnight expected much from the ghouls who knew who he was – _Paladin_ Goodnight Robicheaux. Long exiled, but that fact was much irrelevant to those whose races Goodnight had committed crimes against in the name of protection and safety.

The ghoul growled. “ _Smoothskin_ ,” they snapped out, “but... _Your kind_ , Paladin. You should know.”

This time it was Billy who was reassuringly gripping Goodnight's elbow, keeping him grounded as his eyes flashed around, suddenly clearly nervous. The ghoul cackled and swept off into the Rexford with a gleeful grin, leaving Billy and Goodnight holding onto each other in the street.

“Goody?” asked Billy, voice gentle but firm. Goodnight gazed down the street, unseeing, panic flooding his body. If someone from the Brotherhood was here, for _him_ , this could not end well. In any scenario Goodnight could come up with, there was no way to avoid the inevitable shootout. When it came to Goodnight and the Brotherhood, it was only bloodshed and bullet holes. “Goody.” Billy's voice was louder this time and he leaned into Goodnight's face to get his attention.

It took a moment, but Goodnight shook himself and his eyes focused back on his companion. He smiled, but it looked as forced as it felt. “Sorry,” he apologized, blinking rapidly a few times to clear his vision. “We gotta get out of here.”

Billy's response was an exasperated chuckle. “You don't say,” he replied quietly. “What's the plan?”

“Plan,” repeated Goodnight. “I have to say, Billy, I don't quite... Have one.”

“Fantastic,” Billy said.

“All our options seem to end in senseless bloodshed. Too many lives will be lost. So unnecessary, lives lost for a fight they want no part of, a war they didn't volunteer to be in...” Goodnight brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in thought and Billy's hand followed, keeping a firm grip around his elbow. “And yet, we drag them into it anyway. And if'n the good mayor is already involved, it seems we haven't got much choice, hm?”

“If there's only one person,” offered Billy, “then we'll be alright. You and me, we can take one man.”

Goodnight laughed. “Always right, aren't you?” he chuckled, dropping his hand from his nose. Billy released his elbow and Goodnight carefully withdrew his hand from his smaller companion's shoulder. Goodnight patted himself down, making sure he had his two smaller guns at the tips of his fingers for if it came to a quick draw. He adjusted his rifle's strap and tugged on the barrel of the gun to make sure he could swiftly pull it off his back. Satisfied, he turned to Billy in time to see him flip one of his belt pouches closed. He glimpsed the pretty silver of Billy's knives and smiled. “Shall we?” asked Goodnight. At Billy's nod, the pair set off.

Watching them walk, it was clear how familiar they were with each other. They fell into step without looking at one another, walking close enough to be reassured by each others' presence but not so close that drawing their weapons would be inhibited in a fight. They both stepped first with the same foot and then the other with practiced ease and, even if their reputations did not precede them, they were clearly a force to be feared and reckoned with.

Being Goodneighbor, the walk was all too drawn out and too brisk for Goodnight's liking. He didn't let it show, instead just keeping close to Billy as they rounded the corner of the Old State House.

The first thing Goodnight noticed was the crowd. Ghouls, humans, and robots alike gathered near the front gate and chatter carried back to the pair as they drew closer.

“The Elder wouldn't send a Paladin,” Goodnight whispered, more so to reassure himself than to tell Billy who, to his credit, didn't even flinch.

“The crowd would suggest otherwise,” Billy replied and the pair slowed to a stop a few feet from the crowd in question. “But I don't see Power Armor... So...”

Goodnight grimaced at that but he had to agree. Paladins came with Power Armor, and it was at least mildly reassuring that there wasn't any Power Armor in sight.

“Well,” Goodnight finally breathed out, “no use prolongin' the inevitable, hm?” Billy nodded and, together, they began pushing through the small crowd to get to the center of attention.

They stopped just shy of stepping into the clearing the nosy townsfolk had made and Goodnight narrowed his eyes. It was a Brotherhood Knight, looking awkward and on edge, and Goodnight wouldn't put it passed him to shoot someone just because he was too paranoid and not adjusted to it. Goodnight took the Knight in and, as the man swayed side to side with his eyes narrowed, he knew that he and Billy would be able to prevent needless death if it came to it.

“Wait here,” Goodnight murmured so only Billy could hear. Billy gave him a sharp glare and a minute nod and Goodnight cleared his throat, stepping forward. All eyes snapped to him and the Knight straightened and stilled, narrowing his eyes.

“Goodnight Robicheaux?” the Knight questioned, though the look in his eye said he knew exactly who he was speaking to.

“That would, indeed, be my name,” Goodnight agreed with a nod. “If I may, what is a Brotherhood Knight doing in Goodneighbor?”

If possible, the Knight straightened up and his grip on his Brotherhood standard laser rifle tightened. “I'm here on behalf of the Elder.” Goodnight twitched, his hand brushing a pistol instinctively. “He's offering you a deal. Return to the Brotherhood. Your... _Synth_ ,” he sneered the word and his gaze swept over the crowd as if trying to pick Billy out, “will be given a free pass as long as it is in your company.”

Goodnight didn't relax. His fingers brushed the top of his gun holster and the Knight's eyes narrowed. “And if I don't return with you, Knight?” His tone was commanding and he wasn't surprised when the Knight's eyes dropped for a moment in a show of submission; Goodnight still had all the power and confidence about him of a Paladin, despite how desperately he wanted to leave that piece of him behind.

It took the Knight a few moments to shake off the submission and he leveled Goodnight with a glare. “If you decline,” he informed curtly, “you are to be executed on sight, and you will be shot on sight from here on out if you somehow escape your execution.”

“It doesn't seem like you're offering me anything worthwhile,” admitted Goodnight. “We're still shot on sight.” He let out a tired sigh and straightened up. “Your offer is declined, Knight. Now, let me pose a question to you.” When the Knight made no move to shoot him, Goodnight asked, “Do you believe you're a faster, better shot than I am?” The Knight's grip on his gun shifted, but before he could so much as point it at Goodnight he had a bullet through his head.

Gasps rang out through the crowd, and Goodnight frowned. He hadn't even moved his hand. A quick glance toward Billy showed his companion just as confused as he was. He shook off his shock and took a few quick steps back to Billy as the Knight's body crumpled, his gun spiraling off into the crowd.

“Mr. Robicheaux, I hope you won't hold my taking his life against me,” a new voice rang out, and Goodnight sighed through his nose, the corners of his lips twitching up. “He was impeding official Minuteman business by accosting you.” At that, Goodnight turned his head to the person approaching from the direction of the goods shop.

“Sam Chisolm, as I live and breathe,” remarked Goodnight with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Goodnight Robicheaux,” replied the man named Sam Chisolm. “If it's not too presumptuous of me, I believe I have a far better offer than our dead friend here did.”

Goodnight's laugh was loud in the startled quiet of the Knight's death. “Mr. Chisolm, it's been far too long. Let us take this somewhere more private, if you don't mind.”

Chisolm inclined his head. “After you,” he said. Goodnight nodded and tipped his head so he could see Billy.

“This alright with you, Billy?” he questioned, searching Billy's face. Billy stepped toward him and nodded.

“As long as we go back to the hotel,” he agreed softly.

“Mhm,” Goodnight murmured. “Of course. Mr. Chisolm,” he called, “follow us.”

Chisolm trailed behind them as the pair fell back into step. The crowd parted for them, ghouls eyeing them warily and humans just having the common sense to step out of the way of danger. The walk didn't feel suffocating on the way back, and Goodnight was certain that the townsfolk avoiding even looking at them was a part of that. Even the front desk manager at the Rexford seemed to avoid looking in their direction and it was just as well for Goodnight.

“So, Mr. Chisolm,” Goodnight started as soon as they were all comfortable within Goodnight and Billy's room. “What would draw a man such as yourself, one with a moral compass due north in a manner of speaking, to our humble town of drifters? Surely there are others your offer might extend to without you having to lower yourself to our kind.” His grin was easy, but his eyes were dark and worried.

Chisolm gave a tight smile. “I am in need of your assistance,” he said. He deliberately looked between Goodnight and Billy and added, “ _Both_ of your help.” At that, Goodnight set a hand on Billy's knee and looked at him for a moment. Billy frowned for a moment and then nodded almost imperceptibly back.

“We have heard the stories of the Minutemen's fall,” Goodnight said thoughtfully. “What is it you'll be needing our help with?”

The smile became an almost feral grin and Chisolm stated firmly, “I have... Raider problems. And,” he said a bit louder when Goodnight opened his mouth, “Gunner problems. Organized. Together.”

Goodnight snapped his mouth shut and pursed his lips. Raiders _and_ Gunners? Not altogether common, but not exactly the most uncommon occurrence in the Commonwealth. “Mighty fine problem you've found for yourself, Mr. Chisolm. Billy here,” he nodded his head sideways to emphasize who he was talking about, “is a pretty nice shot, but he's slit more Raider throats than shot.”

Billy shrugged. “Knives are easier,” he explained when Chisolm gave him a curious look. “Not as clean, but more precise. Besides, Goody's got my back when I go in.” Here, he gave Goodnight a warm smile and patted the hand still over his knee. “If you have need for us, we might be able to oblige.”

Chisolm chuckled softly, amusement in the lines of his face. “Well, that's good to hear now. We're goin' after an old resident of Diamond City. Bartholomew Bogue. Runs himself a tight ship and keeps Raiders, Gunners, anything and anyone money hungry in his employ.” Chisolm raised his eyebrows when Goodnight made a face. “You recognize the name?”

A disgusted sneer overtook Goodnight. “Back when I was in the Brotherhood,” he explained, “the squad I lead had far more than it's fair share of run-ins with men claimin' to be under Bogue's protection. Not that it did them any good in the face of an Alpha squad, you know, but... I reckon Bogue has a bone to pick with the Brotherhood of Steel at any rate.”

“He might take it personal if you're involved.”

Goodnight shrugged. “Like I said, Billy can handle himself, an' I'm not too bad neither.”

“Which is why I've come to you two first,” Chisolm said. “It helps that you both have... _Reputations_ , but I know you're someone I can trust, Mr. Robicheaux.”

“How?” Billy questioned. “How do you know you can trust Goody?”

“Jesus, Billy,” murmured Goodnight. “Don't go gettin' this fine man's moral compass in a tizzy. I told you I knew a Minuteman once. He kept the others away damn near toward the end of my time in the Brotherhood. You were my defection, Mr. Chisolm was the beginning.” Goodnight flipped his hand and stroked his knuckles over Billy's knee.

“I do think that's a story for another time,” Chisolm offered. When he received two nods in return, he continued, “We should set off soon. I have more people to collect, and we have much to discuss. We leave at dawn.”

“That's an awful long time to be sittin' around Goodneighbor, ain't it?” wondered Goodnight with a cheeky grin. “What say we go down to the ol' Third Rail. Drinks on me?”

“You're an incorrigible drunk, Mr. Robicheaux,” Chisolm remarked with a smirk, “and I'll take that offer.”

Goodnight returned the grin and rapped his knuckles gentle on Billy's knee. “What about you, Billy? You in?” He turned to look at the man and grinned even wider at the affectionate look on Billy's face.

“I'll drink you both under the table,” said Billy, pushing himself to his feet. Chisolm followed and then Goodnight, both men looking beyond amused.

“That's one bet I intend to make you lose,” Goodnight told Billy as the three of them headed out of the Rexford and toward the Third Rail. “Just you wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello! so this idea just kinda came to me as a mashup of the two things i'm vaguely constantly obsessed with and i just hope there are people out there who enjoy it! it will definitely be a series of oneshots. not all of them will tie together and not all of them will be plot related, but they will all be part of this mag7fo4 au.
> 
> i'd like to say i have everything planned out but honestly i'm just rolling with the punches and i'm _always_ open to new ideas for this entire concept! feel free to send me an ask on [tumblr](http://conspiracieys.tumblr.com/) or comment if you have any ideas for future parts!
> 
> please let me know your thoughts on this, because feedback is a writer's dream and it also helps me know if people appreciate it and want to see more.


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